Altering Destiny
by Ashura Rae
Summary: Harry Potter and Ranma fusion. What if someone else got to Harry first that night he was left on the Dursley's doorstep? First fic so please R&R!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and co. belong to the one and only J.K Rowling.. and Ranma ½ belongs to the wonderful Rumiko Takahashi..* bursts into tears * b-but you just wait!! When I take over the world they'll all belong to me! ME!!! MWAHAHAHAHAH!!!! * cough * But as of now.. please don't sue, for all I have are $7.65 in my piggybank, a Harry Potter pencil case and a rather large Ranma ½ picture collection on my dads computer.  
  
Read this carefully because I hate writing disclaimers (they're rather like pouring salt on my wounds) so this is the only chance you'll get to rub it in my face for the whole story! Heh.  
  
'The most decisive actions of our life - I mean those that are most likely to decide the whole course of our future - are more often than not, unconsidered.' Andre Gide.  
  
Prologue  
  
Genma Saotome - as much as he hated to admit it, for real men can hold their liquor - was undeniable drunk. He staggered past yet another neat row of identical houses (Really! These people had no originality!) before sinking down in the shade of a large oak tree and plopping himself heavily down to sit on the curb.  
  
Eyes dazed and head sluggish he reviewed on just how he came to be wondering the streets of who-knows-where, England, at such unholy hours of the morning.  
  
* * *  
  
There was a man, at a bar, whose features he could not quite recall. They had been playing cards and he'd won, for the other had been so far gone that the only response he got when he threw down the five aces that ended the game was a tiny snore and an incoherent mumble as the other man began to suck on his thumb.  
  
Carefully, Genma had extracted his winnings - i.e. the slumped figure's jacket - before making a rather quick getaway.  
  
After intense examination, he'd found with luck, a stuffed wallet, a cell- phone, and a mysterious package that after brief contemplation he tore open, containing a plane ticket to England.  
  
Oh what luck!! He had thought.  
  
It was as if the hands of fate were guiding him.  
  
He had desperately needed to get away and what drops into his lap but a plane ticket to far away England!  
  
He got through the customs easily enough, with a floppy hat and sunglasses that aided him in masquerading as Brian Wilson.  
  
It was only too bad he realised, as he stepped off the plane at London airport, that he didn't speak a word of English.  
  
Navigating through the busy streets of London was no easy task for someone as tactless and idiotic as Genma Saotome, which is why when he spied the telltale sign of a bar, he'd gone in without a moments hesitation.  
  
After all, liquor was much the same everywhere and what he truly needed right then was exactly that - liquor.  
  
After downing, well shall we say several glasses of good old- fashioned sake Genma thought he had perhaps fallen asleep, for the next thing he knew, he was slumped on the back seat of a taxi being driven to God-knows- where.  
  
And when he next awoke he found himself lying on the side of the street he was currently stranded on with a much lighter wallet.  
  
* * *  
  
Mrs. M.Wilson, a thin woman with an angular face and dark brown hair streaked with grey which was at the moment sitting in a bun at the top of her head, was pacing the length of her living room on No.14 Privet Drive.  
  
Her son was due to have arrived more than 3 hours ago, but right now there was no sign of him at all.  
  
Her little boy, (although not so little anymore) had been chosen to represent his company at a very important convention in Japan, and apparently he was one of the youngest to be selected.  
  
She felt pride surging within her.  
  
Brilliant as he was, Brian could not take care of himself, knowing this she had especially written down her address to be placed in his jacket just in case.  
  
She paused and peered out her window, it was already dark.  
  
Worry etched her face.  
  
What if something had happened? What if her baby was hurt?  
  
Her poor little Brian could be lying dead in a gutter somewhere for she knew!  
  
Her mind set, she reached for her phone to dial the local police station.  
  
* * *  
  
Genma Saotome was lying in a gutter, albeit not quite as dead as he would have wished.  
  
He had a splitting headache, and the left side of his body not covered with the jacket he'd carelessly thrown on was numb with cold.  
  
He considered getting up, a stone digging hard into his back swayed his decision.  
  
Scrambling gracelessly onto his feet, he swayed unsteadily before taking a few tottering steps forward into the soft orange glow of the street light.  
  
He winced at the sudden brightness.  
  
After his eyes had adjusted he peered around taking in his surroundings.  
  
It was a very normal looking street with normal looking little houses all lined up in tidy rows.  
  
His eyes fell on a bundle of.. something at the steps of.. what was that?  
  
He squinted - No.4  
  
He edged closer, upon seeing the said bundle wriggle.  
  
Cautiously extending his arm, he gave the bundle a little poke, the bundle wriggled again.  
  
He took another step.  
  
A set of bright green eyes peered up at him from within the bundle, Genma let out a gasp of surprise.  
  
It was a baby!  
  
A very cute baby, that was now studying him intently and gurgling.  
  
A sudden painful onslaught of hidden memories and emotion caused Genma to double over before sinking to his knees.  
  
He remembered.  
  
Remembered why exactly he had so desperately needed to get away, remembered another toddler that used to study him in very much the same manner.  
  
* * *  
  
2 months ago:  
  
Ranma Saotome, aged 2 and a half, was burning up with fever. His little chest rose up and down as he took in gulps of air.  
  
Things were not looking well.  
  
Genma knew what his son needed was professional medical care, but being situated in the middle of a dense forest, miles away from civilization prevented him from getting Ranma to a hospital that the little boy desperately needed.  
  
Perhaps he should have listened to Nodoka, maybe Ranma was too small to begin training.  
  
He shook his head viciously.  
  
No. This was the boy's own fault. He was too weak. If he were stronger, then this would have never happened. Ranma would never make a great martial artist, the boy lacked too much spirit and he was ashamed to call such a weakling his son.  
  
With a final look at the flushed face of his son, Genma Saotome left the shelter to go hunting for dinner.  
  
* * *  
  
Swearing mentally, Genma gave the thorn bush that had slashed open his forearm a good beating with his makeshift walking stick. Game was getting rarer these days, perhaps it was time to move camp again. Shifting the large hare he had managed to brain onto his left shoulder he continued to make his way back to camp.  
  
It was late when he got there.  
  
Having skinned the hare and leaving a large pot of water to boil over the open fire, he ducked into the tent to check on Ranma. Perhaps he was better now, and would not whine so pitifully at him.  
  
He blinked in the sudden darkness of the tent and made his way over to the sleeping bag where his son lay.  
  
He reached out an arm to feel the boy's forehead.  
  
Cold.  
  
Too cold.  
  
A moment of panic seized him. Swooping the still figure of his son into his arms he began to call frantically.  
  
'Ranma? Ranma? Can you hear me? Wake up!! Wake up!!'  
  
He shook and shook the small body but there was no response.  
  
Ranma Saotome was dead.  
  
He vaguely remembered packing camp and burying Ranma beneath the rose bushes which the little boy had called 'pweety' the day they first arrived. Wondering aimlessly, with desperation to get far, far away, he pushed the memories back until he remembered no more.  
  
* * *  
  
He remembered now.  
  
Oh Nodoka was going to flay him alive when she found out.  
  
He straightened. Rubbing his eyes to clear his vision, he said sternly to himself.  
  
'The boy was too weak. In this world, the strong thrived and the weak perished. That's just how things are.'  
  
A giggle drew his attention and he looked down. The emerald-eyed toddler was reaching up for him, giggling at how the strange big man was talking to himself.  
  
Genma stood frozen for a few seconds before an idea began to take root.  
  
'I'm a genius' He thought. Now the look he gave the toddler was a cold calculating gaze. Reaching down he picked the green-eyed baby up.  
  
'A boy.' He announced satisfactorily. There should be no problems now, sure, Ranma was gone, but now he had another boy to train and be his heir. Nodoka wouldn't mind, he was sure, besides this boy was cuter than Ranma had ever been. Nodding, he wrapped the baby back in his blankets and tucking the bundle under his arm, made his way to the end of the street and turning, disappeared from sight.  
  
* * *  
  
Two hours and ten or so minutes later, Mrs. Dursley of No.4 Privet Drive, swung open the front door to put out their milk bottles. Craning her head, she looked around to see if anything worth noting was going on, seeing nothing out of place and none of her neighbours up to spy on, she turned around and shut the door behind her.  
  
* * * 


	2. Chapter 1 The Boy Who Disappeared

A/N: Thanks to all those that reviewed, your response was greatly appreciated ^.^ Now will someone PLEASE show me how to do underlines, bolds, italics and all those other really useful stuff?!  
  
Chapter 1 - The Boy Who Disappeared  
  
The wizarding world was in an uproar.  
  
The reason?  
  
'The Boy Who Lived - Vanished!'  
  
Harry Potter, infant son of the late James and Lily Potter, 'The Boy Who Lived' has vanished without a trace. Responsible for the defeat of 'You- Know-Who', it is believed that loyal followers of the evil tyrant have abducted the boy in seeking revenge for their felled master. There are currently no leads on the whereabouts of little Harry, and we fear the worst.  
  
Albus Dumbledore, head master of the renowned Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry, was the last person to have seen Harry, after leaving him on the doorstep of his Muggle relatives at No.4 Privet Drive.  
  
Many a wizards and witches have expressed their anger at this - Harry Potter? Go live with Muggles? Preposterous!  
  
This however is not the only mistake Dumbledore made; after leaving little Harry at No.4 in the middle of the night, he left.  
  
That's right, LEFT.  
  
Not stay and make sure Harry was delivered to the Muggles safely but left him on the doorstep without any protection where the infant could have been easily taken by anyone.  
  
Albus Dumbledore is solely responsible for the disappearance of Harry Potter. We placed our trust in him and he has failed us. We entrusted the life of our saviour to him and he has practically presented him all nicely wrapped to those that most wanted to see poor little Harry Potter dead.  
  
The Ministry of Magic has, of course, sent out several search parties and the best aurors to track down The Boy Who Lived. We pray that Harry Potter is still alive somewhere out there and that he may be returned to us safely.  
  
Rita Skeeter.  
  
* * *  
  
WHACK!  
  
Professor Minerva McGonagall slapped down her copy of the Daily Prophets, a look of disgust upon her face.  
  
'How dare that woman!' She thought angrily. 'How dare she lay all the blame on Albus?!'  
  
Shooting up off her armchair, she hurried to the Head masters office.  
  
She was going to sort this out once and for all.  
  
* * *  
  
The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, fiddling with his bowler hat, began to speak again.  
  
'Albus,' He started 'What am I going to do?! Everything is so chaotic right now! We get hundreds upon hundreds of angry owls every day about the Potter boy. The people are demanding me, ME, to do something about it!'  
  
Albus Dumbledore, straightened in his chair, and looking gravely at the agitated man said:  
  
'And are you planning to anything, Cornelius?'  
  
'I - ' Fudge looked distressed. 'What can I do that hasn't already been done? I've already got all my best men on the job, what else do they expect?'  
  
Then he added, almost like an afterthought.  
  
'Besides Albus, you're the one that screwed up this time. Shouldn't you be the one that's doing something?'  
  
Albus never got to reply as at that very moment, a very upset looking Minerva McGonagall busted into his office. She was so intent on speaking to the Headmaster, she did not even notice Fudge standing looking rather ashen in the corner.  
  
'Have you seen this Albus?! Have you seen what they're writing about you?!' She said, her voice rising with every word.  
  
'Look! Just look at this, this -' Not finding any appropriate words to use she waved the offending article angrily in the air.  
  
Cornelius Fudge, upon seeing the paper, looked decidedly more nervous and began edging towards the door.  
  
'I'll - I'll just be off now, Albus. You seem to have things to take care off.'  
  
'YOU!!' The woman whirled around, finally noticing Fudge's presence.  
  
The Minister of Magic immediately regretted drawing attention to himself, backing away slowly he said in his most calm, and persuasive voice.  
  
'Now, now, Professor McGonagall. There really isn't any need to raise your voice-'  
  
'How dare you come here to ask Albus for assistance after you allowed this, this Rubbish to be published?!' Minerva McGonagall waved the paper in a very threatening manner in the cowering man's direction.  
  
'How DARE you!! You are nothing bu-'  
  
'Minerva. Enough.'  
  
Those words were not spoken loudly, but they were filled with authority. Minerva clicked her jaws shut and turned towards the speaker.  
  
Albus Dumbledore had risen, and it broke her heart to see him looking so old and frail. The familiar twinkle had dimmed in his sky blue eyes until they were barely noticeable.  
  
'Oh Albus.' She sighed and all the anger deflated from her.  
  
'Cornelius? I'm aware you are a very busy man.' The dismissal was clear.  
  
Fudge tipped his hat and scurried off, eager to get away from the woman who, no less than five seconds ago, would have jumped at the chance to turn him into something nasty.  
  
Albus Dumbledore gave a tired sigh, and sank into his chair once more. Minerva noted the dark circles under his eyes and the stooped posture of the once so lively man.  
  
'Albus. It wasn't your fault. No matter what those other idiots say.'  
  
The Headmaster just shook his head.  
  
'You'd already put up the protective wards. The Skeeter woman had no idea what she was talking about!'  
  
'Minerva old friend.' The old man finally said. 'It is true that I'd set up the wards but they only stopped anyone with the intention of harming Harry. They would do nothing to stop, lets say, a stranger thinking he was abandoned from taking him, or, a drunkard thinking he was something other than a baby going off with him.'  
  
Dumbledore had no idea how close he came to hitting home with those guesses.  
  
'I am at fault this time. I should have stayed.' Placing his face into his cupped hands the Headmaster shook his head.  
  
'I was over confident. I am to blame.'  
  
'Stop it Albus.' Minerva snapped. Then her gaze softened. 'You said the ward kept anyone with the intention of harming Harry out. This means that Harry is probably alive and safe somewhere. With all the people out searching, we're bound to find him.'  
  
She stepped closer and placed her hand on the slumped shoulders of the man who seemed so tired and old at that moment.  
  
'Everything will be all right Albus. Get some rest.' With that she left, shutting the door gently behind her.  
  
The man named Albus Dumbledore sat silently for some moments before getting up and walking over to the perch where a beautiful phoenix had stood and watched the whole affair.  
  
'You think he is alive?' He asked the phoenix.  
  
The bird gave a quiet, reassuring trill and rubbed his head against the old man's outstretched fingers.  
  
The Headmaster turned his gaze upwards.  
  
'Wherever you are Harry Potter, I wish you the best of luck. May the gods keep you safe.'  
  
* * *  
  
Harry Potter, the boy in question, was at that moment trying his best to dodge airborne chestnuts.  
  
Moving his legs as fast as he could he scrambled out of the way of a large brown projectile that was two inches from connecting with his head.  
  
Genma Saotome grinned to himself. The boy was getting quicker.  
  
Chucking another two chestnuts at the toddler he peeked out of the round window of the ship they had smuggled away on.  
  
(Flash back (A/N: Until I learn to do italics.))  
  
The large balding martial artist with the baby boy he had so conveniently picked up tucked snuggly under his arms crouched behind a big crate that smelled suspiciously like baked beans.  
  
Squinting into the fading dusk light he checked to make sure no one had noticed the two unwelcome stowaways.  
  
Getting onboard the ship - destination port Toyoma, Japan - unnoticed, was a piece of cake. These foreigners couldn't even begin to comprehend the art of stealth.  
  
From the bits and pieces he could pick up, which really wasn't much considering he couldn't understand a word of English - but the big map with their course drawn in with a big red permanent marker really helped, Genma learnt that they would be heading south to circle around Russia before heading northwards to Japan.  
  
It's a good thing that they were well provisioned, it was going to be a LONG journey even with the fastest and newest model of cargo ship.  
  
(End flash back)  
  
Settling down between a giant crate of apple juice and stacked boxes filled with cereal Genma regarded the green-eyed toddler with interest.  
  
It was surprisingly easy to get the boy to start walking, a couple of well- aimed chestnuts whenever the baby had tried to sit had taught the toddler that crawling was a no-no now.  
  
Absently flicking another chestnut in the tottering child's direction, he noted to himself the toddler's lightening quick reflexes and a grin split his face.  
  
Yep, that boy was gonna go far.  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: Well that's chap.1. By the way does anyone know the Japanese words for 'Boy' or 'Green-eyes' in Japanese? This is what Genma will call Harry for the first couple of years of his life. (Any other suggestions welcome) ^.^ 


	3. Chapter 2 Home Coming

Disclaimer: See Prologue.  
  
A/N: Many thanks to Redbird, Gyre, Maguswizard, trigun 1 girl, and Mysao- werewolf for their reviews! I feel so loved!! ^.^  
  
Redbird: I'm sorry I killed off Ranma, but it was a necessary sacrifice * sniffles * I loved him too!!!  
  
Gyre: Hope chap. 1 answered your question about Dumbledore.  
  
Maguswizard: The eye colour problem? All shall be revealed in Chap. 2! So please keep reading!!  
  
Trigun 1 girl: Thanks for the vote of encouragement. And Harry isn't going to be Ranma, as you'll see real soon. I've got my own little story line planned out. Hope you'll like it.  
  
Mysao-werewolf: No.. * twiddles fingers * Harry won't be wearing glasses.. but you'll see why soon enough.  
  
'A lie told often enough becomes the truth.' Lenin (1870 - 1924)  
  
Chapter 2 - Home Coming  
  
'Merlin's beard, Fudge!!' The infamous auror known most commonly as Mad-Eye Moody slammed his hands down on the desk causing several sheets of loose paper to waft up and the little sign that read 'Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic' to rattle.  
  
'We've already got every single bloody auror that's not confined in a bed somewhere or locked up in St.Mungo's looking!! What else do you want us to do?!' He growled roughly, shoving his face lined with multiple scars right up close to a sweating Fudge's.  
  
'W-well, are you sure you've searched thoroughly enough?' Fudge gave a squeak.  
  
'Thorough? THOROUGH?! We've turned the whole bloody country upside down and inside out!! I tell you Fudge, that boy isn't in the country, either that or he's.. he's been disposed of.' Moody's expression turned most solemn.  
  
'I'm afraid there isn't much more we can do.'  
  
So after five and a half months of being labeled as missing, Harry Potter was now unofficially declared as deceased.  
  
* * *  
  
Genma Saotome felt giddiness well up inside him as he spied land over the horizon.  
  
Sure, baked beans, cereal, chestnuts, and fruit juice would be considered almost a luxury from what he usually managed to get his hands on while on training trips - but every single day for five months straight? He shook his head.  
  
'Can't wait to get out of this hellhole.'  
  
Beckoning the emerald-eyed child over, he began stuffing empty cans and boxes back into their crates, soon the toddler began to follow suit.  
  
Nodding satisfactorily, he left the child to the task and began to devise a plan on how to sneak off the ship without being discovered.  
  
It wasn't going to be as easy as it was in England, he thought. For they were back in his homeland where there were many practicing martial artists though none as good as him -of course.  
  
Not only that, but the boy had grown somewhat in the past few months and he wasn't going to have it as easy hurling him around.  
  
The child had finished stacking the last few empty baked bean cans into the crate and was now looking expectantly in his direction, he gave the toddler a careful scrutinizing.  
  
The boy had improved a lot and was now most efficient at dodging the flying projectiles aimed often at him. He was walking with confidence and was very quick and slippery to get a hold of.  
  
This, Genma had learnt by personal experience when the child, in a fit of mischievousness, had stolen his bandana.  
  
Peering out of the round window again he saw that the land was quickly closing in and night was just falling.  
  
Eyes darting around the dim musty room they occupied he sighted an emergency exit that most likely lead right up to lower deck.  
  
An idea began to form in his head.  
  
Perhaps it was time to teach the boy how to swim.  
  
* * *  
  
Nodoka Saotome hummed tunelessly to herself as she prepared dinner. Chopping up the last of the onions she made a mental note:  
  
'Must go shopping tomorrow.'  
  
Reheating last night's stew over the stove, she sighed.  
  
Oh how she missed her little boy! She even missed Genma, as pig-headed and stubborn as he maybe.  
  
She only hoped that he was treating Ranma all right, she had insisted that he doesn't take little Ranma on a training trip until he was at least five. But the man was like a dog with a bone - once he had an idea he just wouldn't let it go.  
  
Sighing again she began setting a single place on the table. The house was so empty and lifeless without them.  
  
A movement outside caught her eye.  
  
She looked up and stumbled.  
  
Two figures, one big and one small were making their way up the narrow walkway towards the house.  
  
They were back! They were finally back!  
  
Still holding her china bowl she rushed outside to meet them.  
  
'Genma! Ranma!' She cried joyously hurrying forward but froze when she sighted her husband and the small unfamiliar green-eyed child beside him.  
  
She felt as if plunged into icy water.  
  
'Wh-Where's is Ranma?' She asked hesitantly craning her neck as if the large man was hiding her baby behind his back.  
  
Genma gave a forced smile.  
  
'He's gone Nodoka. But don't you worry,' He prodded the small figure forward. 'We've got this boy now, he even has eyes the colour of your favourite stones.'  
  
All the blood drained out of Nodoka's face, and she felt suddenly nauseous.  
  
'Gone?' She whispered hoarsely. 'Wha-what do you mean Genma? This isn't funny.'  
  
The man in question just shook his head.  
  
'I'm sorry Nodoka, I know you were fond of the boy. But really, it is partly your fault that he's gone - you pampered him too much! He was too weak and not worthy to be my heir.'  
  
Shoving the toddler forward again he said:  
  
'I have chosen him to be my new heir, he shows real potential and I'll allow you to dote on him as much as you want. How about that?'  
  
The china bowl fell with a crash to lay shattered on the ground.  
  
'Out! Get out!!' Nodoka screamed, silent tears making their way down her face.  
  
'Nodoka! Be-'  
  
'OUT!!'  
  
Seeing that his wife wasn't in the most susceptible of moods, Genma slung the green-eyed child over his shoulders like a sack full of potatoes and began retreating before the woman could start to get violent.  
  
'I'll make this boy the best martial artist in the world! And a man among man! You'll be proud to call him son!' He cried over his shoulder as he scrambled down the tiny path.  
  
As Genma Saotome vaulted over the gate with the name 'Saotome' printed on in small neat writing he silently promised that he'll do everything in his power to make the child a master of the Anything Goes School of martial arts.  
  
Then Nodoka will see she was wrong to doubt him.  
  
Why, she would probably even welcome him back with open arms.  
  
* * *  
  
Watching the retreating form of her husband Nodoka sank down to her knees, not even noticing that pieces of broken china had pierced her flesh and bright red droplets of blood rolled down her legs.  
  
She turned her hateful gaze sky wards and cursed the gods for taking away her son, cursed them for taking away her life and joy, but most of all she cursed herself for having married a man such as the likes of Genma Saotome.  
  
So on that cloudy day with the blood red sun sinking low beyond the horizon a lone woman sat outside on the footpath of her modest home and wept.  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: More Harry soon! I promise!! 


	4. Chapter 3 The Road to becoming a Master

Disclaimer: See Prologue.  
  
A/N: A very big Thank you to all my reviewers! Setsuna_Darkheart, RilieDeAnnPotter5569, Lunaboh22, Gyre (yes, Genma will be in for a surprise indeed), trigun 1 girl, Maguswizard (yes, * evil laugh * die panda die!!), redbird, and mysao-werewolf. As to Darak, I hate to break it to you but Ranma won't be appearing in this fic anytime soon. Though what you mentioned may be a good idea for another story.  
  
Chapter 3 - Road to becoming a Master  
  
A small boy of about five or six crouched behind a large ornamental statue of a grinning Buddha.  
  
Peering cautiously through the gap between the golden man's parted feet he spied his target.  
  
It looked absolutely heavenly.  
  
Big rounded apples, juicy pears and oranges lined the table. The shelf towards the left of the stall was stacked full of instant ramen and other delicious looking packages. On the right there was a cabinet filled with freshly baked bread and the smell wafted up his nose causing his stomach to grumble in complaint.  
  
Eyes darting left and right he checked to make sure the coast was clear. Then keeping his eyes on the bulky man slouched lazily in his chair at the front of the stall he began advancing forward.  
  
One step, two steps, three and with a bound he leapt behind the bushes just some feet away from his destination. Bright green eyes squinting out of the greenery he saw that the stall owner was still in his place completely ignorant of his surroundings.  
  
Snorting silently to himself, he grabbed a few branches of leaves before edging his way forward again.  
  
Just a little bit closer.. nearly there.. there was a sudden crunching sound as he accidentally trod on a chip packet that some spoiled little kid must have thrown away before finishing all of its contents.  
  
Mentally swearing in some very colourful language that he'd picked up from his Sensei, he dropped to the ground throwing the few branches of leaves over him hoping desperately that they would cover him completely.  
  
'See the ground. Feel the ground. Be the ground.' He chanted the mantra silently in his head. He felt the gaze of the owner sweep over him, once, twice then letting out a breathe of relief he peered up from his position to see the man dozing once more.  
  
'Ignorant idiot.' He thought contemptuously. And began advancing on all fours.  
  
If anyone had been watching closely, they would have thought themselves delirious from the heat to see a small bush slowly inching towards the food stall.  
  
Finally there, the boy got out his already prepared knapsack and very discreetly, began to stuff it with every food item he could get his hands on. He was not satisfied until the bag was about to burst.  
  
Inching backwards he began to make his getaway.  
  
A shout filled with surprise and anger sounded behind him.  
  
This time he swore out loud.  
  
'Kuso!!'  
  
Sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him he dashed from the scene. Pushing past random passerby's he ran on towards where the forest began.  
  
The pounding of feet faded behind him signaling that the stall owner had given up on the chase, but he didn't stop until he was some distance into the forest and safely up an old tree with drooping branches.  
  
Wiping his brow with relief he checked his prize and was extremely displease to see that several items had stumbled out of the pack while he had been busy escaping.  
  
Pursing his lips he gave a nonchalant shrug.  
  
'Ah well.' He thought. 'At least it ain't all gone.'  
  
With that he began picking his way back to camp, doubling back several times just in case some nosy bastards decided to tail him.  
  
* * *  
  
'This all you got boy?' Genma Saotome looked up with a frown after inspecting the stolen goods.  
  
'Hai, Sensei.'  
  
He had greatly discouraged the boy from referring to him as father and had told him that only when he was a true master of the arts does he have the honour of doing so.  
  
'I'm sorry Sensei, the big buffoon noticed me at the end and I barely got away.' The green-eyed boy gave a little sniff and hung his head in shame.  
  
'Well, you know what this means dontcha?' Genma regarded the child calmly. 'No dinner for you tonight.'  
  
The boy's head snapped up and he opened his mouth to protest.  
  
'But I didn't get any last-'  
  
'You failed. So you bear the consequences. It's as simple as that. But out of the kindness of my heart I'll give you the chance to earn some dinner.' At that the large man paused and grinned slyly. 'By beating me.'  
  
The boy's shoulders slumped and he heaved a great sigh. There was not a snowball's chance in hell he was going to beat the older man and he knew it.  
  
But that didn't mean he wouldn't try.  
  
Squaring his shoulders and straightening his back he marched forward to stop in front of the balding martial artist. Then shooting the larger man a cocky grin he said:  
  
'Well? Lets get on with it then.'  
  
* * *  
  
The small boy with startling green eyes didn't get any dinner that night.  
  
Their fight had ended like so many others in the past - with the child pinned helplessly under the weight of Genma Saotome while the other ate his dinner slowly and cruelly in front of the starving boy.  
  
Once finished, Genma had patted the boy roughly on the head.  
  
'The road to becoming a master ain't a easy one, m'boy.' He shook his head in sympathy that was clearly insincere.  
  
'Now you're gonna go back to that food stall tomorrow and you aren't going to get caught, understand?'  
  
The boy had agreed miserably for he knew the bulky stall owner would be on the look out for him this time and there promised a lot of pain and humiliation if he were caught.  
  
He felt tears prickling his eyes.  
  
'You're not CRYING are you?' His Sensei asked incredulously.  
  
'How many times must I tell you that real men don't cry? Only weakling girls and sissies cry. Are you a sissy?'  
  
Angrily the child had wiped away his tears and shook his head no.  
  
'Well off with you. Two hundred sit-ups, Two hundred push-ups and the kata I taught you.' With that the older man turned, sauntering into the tent. A moment later he called:  
  
'And you can sleep outside tonight. It'll do you a world of good.'  
  
Shivering in the chill October night air the boy dragged his tired and famished body to the clearing in the middle of camp and began his exercises.  
  
* * *  
  
It's been exactly two weeks since they arrived unceremoniously in China - washed up on the sandy shores of the northeast region and the child known only as 'Boy' hadn't stopped cursing his Sensei since.  
  
'Stupid old man' He muttered under his breathe for what seemed like the millionth time. 'Making me swim all the way to stupid China.. '  
  
The seven year old shot daggers at the back of the older martial artist while trudging in knee-high mud.  
  
After being deemed worthy to go on a training trip into the perilous mountains of China he had nearly drowned thirty-seven times, on the verge of being bitten by sharks thirteen times, run over by blind idiots seventy two times, gone on without food for four days and now - trudging in circles in muck around that ridiculous looking stone - fourteen times. All in all, he was NOT having a good time.  
  
'Um..Sensei?' He called hesitantly to the larger man. No matter what he thought of him, he still had to put on a mask of obedience lest the man decided to teach him yet another lesson on respect, the bruises he had gathered last time were still visible.  
  
'Haven't we passed that rock before?' The child pointed up at a grotesquely shaped rock that looked like it would topple at any moment and crush them into itty-bitty pieces.  
  
The boy grinned upon hearing a loud slap that resulted from Genma slamming his beefy hand into his own forehead.  
  
'God damn it all!' The man roared and fell straight as a board backwards to land with a splat in the mud.  
  
'Boy. We're sleeping here tonight.' He said and promptly began to snore.  
  
The boy sent the man a reproachful look and scrambled up onto some rocks where it was not as muddy. He began gathering splinters of wood to start a fire, for surely the stupid ol'man would demand food as soon as he awakens.  
  
* * *  
  
The next morning saw the two, martial artist and martial artist in training, in better moods. They had finally stopped going around in circles and had actually found a stream to wash in. (The white gi's they wore were so completely covered in mud they looked to be dyed a mucky brown.)  
  
After fighting over who got the last potato for breakfast (courtesy to an unfortunate farmer they met two days ago), the green-eyed boy watched fuming while Genma stuffed his face from his spot strung upside down in a pine tree.  
  
Once finished the large man fished a small book out of the front of his gi and the child blinked with surprise - he didn't think the old man knew how to read.  
  
Calling up to the boy Genma beamed.  
  
'Today is the day that I teach you the most feared and revered technique, it is thought to be undefeatable and you are in much luck that I am one who possesses the knowledge and skills to instruct you.' The man then proceeded to rant on for some time about his self-importance before the child interrupted.  
  
'Are you going to tell me what it is or not old man?'  
  
This comment rewarded him with a pinecone chucked with some force at his head.  
  
'Don't be impudent, boy. I'm getting to it.' Genma growled. Then puffing up his chest he crowed.  
  
'Today is the day that I, Genma Saotome master of the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts, begin your training in the Neko-ken.'  
  
* * * 


	5. Chapter 4 Neko ken

Disclaimer: See Prologue.  
  
A/N: A big thanks to Death-TheOnlyTrueFreedom, trigun 1 girl, maguswizard, Gyre, Mysao-werewolf, Setsuna_Darkheart, Katoriina, ZeonReborn, Lunaboh22, RillieDeAnnPotter5569, Mimi, Darak and Redbird for their reviews!!  
  
Death-TheOnlyFreedom: If what you mean by the well thing from Ranma is the cursed springs of Jusenkyo, it will crop up but not as a main event. I know killing Ranma was really mean of me but.. it was necessary for the story. Sorry about that. As for stretching the things baby Harry did, well my friend's brother is just nearing two and trying to catch him for 'Bath time' is no easy feat. So I'll let you be the judge on that one. ^.^; And yes, Neko does mean cat. Neko ken=Cat fist.  
  
Darak: The whole story isn't really going to be based in the Ranma world. Just the beginning so it wouldn't really fit in the Ranma fanfics category. And I'm sorry I can't bring Ranma back because I really haven't got a part for him to play in this story, please forgive me? * Puppy dog eyes * I can promise you a very sweet revenge on Genma in the near future though!  
  
Mysao-werewolf: Yes, Harry will be going to Hogwarts but not for a while yet.  
  
Setsuna_Darkheart: I'm updating quite often because it's the holidays over here, but school starts in exactly 8 days so I thought I'd get as much done as possible because I wouldn't get the chance once school's on again.  
  
Katoriina: Thank you so much for the Japanese lesson! It was very useful but I've decided to just stick with English as I'll make too many mistakes otherwise.  
  
Trigun 1 girl: Yep that's basically it. Whether he gets a curse or not.. you'll just have to find out! ^_~ (though really, I hadn't planned on it)  
  
Mimi: * shrugs * what can I say? I'm one strange gal.. Thanks for the encouragement!  
  
Thanks again to everyone for their reviews!!  
  
Chapter 4 - Neko ken  
  
'The wha-?' The green-eyed child asked confusion clear on his face.  
  
'Weren't you listening?' The fat, balding martial artist glared in the boy's direction.  
  
'Well yeah..but I zoned out when you started to go on about being the greatest martial artist and world domination..'  
  
'Ingrate.' Genma growled under his breath and hands snapping out cut the dangling boy loose from the tree.  
  
POOFT! Said boy landed with a thud face first on the ground causing small mushroom clouds of dust to rise up.  
  
'Ow..' He whined. 'Couldn't you have given me a warning?'  
  
'A good martial artist is always on alert.' Was all the older man had to say.  
  
Reaching down to grab the twitching boy by the collar he hurled the child upright.  
  
'The first step to mastering the Neko ken is to dig a hole.'  
  
'Come again?' The poor child looked more confused then ever.  
  
'You heard me.'  
  
'Bu-'  
  
'Don't argue. Do you or do you not want to learn? Now go. Start digging.'  
  
The bewildered child blinked and set off to find a good site to dig a hole. If this was what was needed to learn the Neko ken then he was going to do it to the best of his abilities. He'll make his Sensei proud by digging the best hole ever.  
  
* * *  
  
And so the child dug, for two days straight he dug non-stop until the more experienced man had nodded in satisfaction that, yes, that hole looked about the right size.  
  
On the third day, they advanced to the second step of mastering the Neko ken - catching as many cats as they could, whether wild or somebody's pet they had to catnap and chucking them into the hole which now boasted a hinged trapdoor to keep the felines in.  
  
All this the boy did without question, he was determined to prove his worth to his Sensei, and secretly hoped that one day the older man would be proud to call him son.  
  
Dawn on the eleventh day saw Genma Saotome coming back to camp looking a tad bit worse for wear, with several large bulks in his arms which, upon closer inspection, were packs of sardine, catnip, mince rolls, tinned tuna, smoked salmon and other such items.  
  
Rubbing sleep from his weary eyes, for the continued yowling of the cats had kept him up for most of the night, the boy asked sleepily:  
  
'Are you finally going to feed the poor things Sensei? Maybe now they'll stop making such a fuss and we'll at last be able to get some sleep.'  
  
The large man just shot the child a mysterious grin that sent shivers down his spine.  
  
'You'll see in due time, boy. You'll see.'  
  
* * *  
  
Coming back from the forest with arms full of firewood the boy stopped at the edge of camp and stared, wondering if the old man had finally cracked.  
  
For crouched on the ground while humming out of tune was his Sensei, busy strapping pieces of mince roll, catnip and sardines to a mutilated garment that was once his training gi.  
  
Cautiously approaching, as he didn't want to startle the poor nutter, he paused along side the large man and hesitantly asked:  
  
'Sensei? What ARE you doing?'  
  
'This, m'boy,' The old man replied while pouring a can of tuna oil over the attire laid flat on the ground. 'This is the final step in mastering the Neko ken.'  
  
'Turning my gi into a seafood delicacy?'  
  
His Sensei shook his head and licking his fingers clean said:  
  
'Its ready, go put it on.'  
  
'S'cuse me?' The boy's eyebrows were scrunched together and he looked at the older man with barely contained disbelief.  
  
'You...want Me to put That on?' He pointed an accusing finger at the soggy, fishy smelling gi.  
  
'That's right.' The larger man straightened. 'Today is the day you complete your training in the Neko ken.'  
  
Picking the garment up off the ground he pushed it into the boy's already occupied arms.  
  
'Now stack the wood away and change.'  
  
'O-okay.' By then the child had confirmed his fears that, yes, the other man was most definitely insane.  
  
Balancing the dripping attire atop the logs he hurried away deciding to go along with his Sensei, even if he was a couple of cards short of a deck.  
  
* * *  
  
Nose wrinkled, the child with brilliant green eyes waddled out of their shared tent trying very hard not to make a bigger mess than there already is.  
  
'Sensei?' He looked questioningly at the big man, wondering why in the world he was dressed like a walking, talking, 'seafood delight bento box'.  
  
'Uh...now what?'  
  
'C'mere boy.' The older man gestured for him to come closer.  
  
Still waddling the boy drew up next to the man.  
  
Nodding down at the deep hole filled to the brim with starving felines, the old man said:  
  
'Well boy, will you go willingly or by force?'  
  
The boy blinked.  
  
'Go where Sensei?'  
  
'Down.'  
  
Following the balding man's gaze, the child peered down into the hole where hisses and yowls could be distinctly heard.  
  
He gulped.  
  
'You wa-want me to go down in THERE?' The boy's eyes widened to the size of ping-pong balls.  
  
'Bu-but, they'll EAT me Alive!!'  
  
The larger man shook his head and muttering something about 'force it is then' under his breathe grabbed the boy by the collar, opened the trap door and before the boy even knew what was going on, chucked him into the hole.  
  
* * *  
  
'It was dark, and it stank like you would never know it.' Were the boy's first thoughts after a rather rough landing.  
  
Picking himself up he noticed the thousands of bright gleaming lights that surrounded him.  
  
He took a step back and the first cat leapt.  
  
Seconds later he was buried under a mountain of hissing, and clawing felines.  
  
Pain.  
  
There was so much pain.  
  
Claws dug into his skin, ripping deep gashes that bled furiously.  
  
Teeth penetrated his soft flesh, biting and tearing.  
  
He didn't know who he was anymore - he didn't care.  
  
All he knew was the pain.  
  
Distantly he was aware of somebody's terrified, horror-filled screams, then realised with a jolt that it was him.  
  
He screamed.  
  
Screamed and screamed and screamed until he could scream no more.  
  
* * *  
  
Silence.  
  
Unnatural, deafening silence.  
  
Genma Saotome looked up from his spot by the fireplace where he was busy preparing his lunch.  
  
'Perhaps the boy's fainted' He thought. 'Or maybe all the food's been eaten.'  
  
Either way he'd have to retrieve the boy.  
  
Sighing he gave his ramen a yearning look and went off to fetch the child.  
  
The instruction manual had shown that it took about three to however many sessions with the hungry felines, depending on the susceptibility of the trainee, to master the Neko ken.  
  
The large man mentally decided to refurnish the boy's spare gi so training can resume as soon as possible so that he may get back to his ramen.  
  
Pulling out the cotton balls from his ears, (he'd placed them there to dampen the child's blood curdling screams), Genma padded to the sizable hole and removing the padlock, wretched the hinged door open.  
  
All hell broke loose.  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: Yes..it's a cliffie. * Gives a wicked grin * By the way.. will somebody PLEASE teach me how to do italics and all the other cool stuff? Please? Pretty please? 


	6. IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ!

IMPORTANT!!  
  
Due to my horrendous results from last year's national exams (which arrived 2 days ago), my dad has banned me from the Internet until I:  
  
One: Pass my piano exam in ATCL Two: Get my grades way up (proven by the long-time-away midyear exam)  
  
Which is why I will not be updating any longer. Hopefully when I've achieved the above goals I may be able to start writing again. But as of now, I don't have the time and am not allowed on the net anyway (except to look up school related stuff..) I am truly sorry about this and having to leave you guys hanging there. I would like to thank everyone who's read this story and shown his or her support, I'll be sure to notify you as soon as the story comes out of its coma.  
  
Sorry about this again _  
  
Ashura Rae. 


	7. Chapter 5 The Green Comet

**A/N**: WAAAAHHH! I'm ALIVE! ALIVE! 'Coughs' Ahem… Anyhow, as you can see – I am alive and kicking… I can't believe it's been nearly 2 blemmin years! 'Squeals' But now that I've graduated no one can boss me around anymore! MWHAHAHA! Well until Uni starts anyhow… 'sweatdrop'

A big thanks to all those who have reviewed since god knows how long it was and to all my dedicated readers (if, that is, there are still any 'cries') – I WUV YOU!

Anyhow I won't bore you with my ranting any longer, I'm sure you'll all just want me to get on with it – but just one last thing – all the bloody studying paid off! The piano exam was beyond what I'd hoped for and I actually got Dux of the College (no… there were no illegal bribing involved and no I did not drug anyone as my piano teacher had so nicely suggested). Ok, ok, I'll shut up now, up and onwards!

**Disclaimer**: See Prologue

* * *

_Pulling out the cotton balls from his ears, (he'd placed them there to dampen the child's blood curdling screams), Genma padded to the sizable hole and removing the padlock, wretched the hinged door open. _

All hell broke loose.

* * *

Chap. 5 – The green comet

The boy with the emerald eyes had long since lost all consciousness of his surroundings. Existing in a world that was pure pain and suffering he had withdrawn into himself, searching and yearning for anything that will release him from this hell on earth, and the demons that tormented him so.

Unbeknownst to himself, this overwhelming desire for escape and shelter brought upon by the dire situation unlocked the barriers around the boy's inner core. Magic, in its raw form, pooled from the centre of his being, and flowing throughout his body sought to fulfil what its master wished – to be protected.

Buried under masses of famished, hissing felines, the boy began to glow and pulse. Eerie green light the exact shade of his once brilliant eyes now dull with exhaust and pain lit the cave as the magic pulsed stronger and yet stronger, wave after wave of power radiating from the boy's broken form.

The cats tearing and biting in their feeding frenzy froze as their prey first began to glow (for as hungry as they were, this was something… simply unnatural). As the pulsing of an invisible force passed through their bodies the felines fled, their animal instincts informing them of a danger beyond anything they've ever experienced and the cats sought shelter burrowing into the dirt at the very edges of the hole. The brave (or stupid) stragglers who clung on to their food source soon found themselves flung against the sides of the hole with enough force to maim.

And still the glow did not diminish, instead, it grew ever brighter until everything was a washed in green.

It was at this very moment that Genma, martial artist extraordinaire, flung open the trap door. The moment natural light entered this dark confinement the boy's magic became aware.

A chance.

An escape.

Green light shimmered in sphere form before contracting violently inwards, slamming back into the boy's body and lifting his limp form upwards, towards the light and towards freedom.

* * *

Upon opening the trap door, Genma Saotome had expected to see a number of things, but a fiery green streak that was anything but human was definitely NOT one of them.

Said inhuman glowing thing shot towards him, bowling him over and flinging his bulky form to land painfully several dozen feet away before shooting upwards and disappearing over the horizon, a loud explosion and a vacuum trail of air in its wake as it broke the sound barrier.

Left sprawling disgracefully in the dirt the heavy martial artist thought of only a single four-lettered word to express the situation, before passing out into blissful la-la land.

'Oh Shit'

* * *

The poor starved and now scared shitlesskitties slowly made their way out of their confinement. Sniffing around to make sure the scary glowing thing was gone, they settled for the next best thing – a nice chow time with the ugly fat lump who conveniently smelt like sardines and ramen.

* * *

On a cold clear November night, a green comet streaked across the sky above China, drawing attention from both astronomers and UFO observers who excitedly recorded this much-unexpected phenomenon.

* * *

**A/N**: Please review! And is anyone interested in being my helpful lil proof-reader? 


	8. Chapter 6 Reactions

**A/N**: Sowwie bout the disgustingly short chappie before! Hopefully this will make up for it ;) And Happy Holidays to you all!

**Disclaimer**: Meh... see Prologue already…

* * *

Chap. 6 – Reactions

Somewhere in England, at the Ministry of Magic, the magic detectors at the Auror's ward came screaming awake. Tops span, lights flashed, sirens blared and poor Timothy Blake, junior officer on duty jumped a foot into the air from the chair he was dozing on before crashing down in a painful heap on the cold tiled floor.

"Merlin's Big Toe Nail!" He squeakily swore. Clumsily trying to untangle his pretzeled body parts, he made his way to the emergency cabinet and with only a moment's hesitation, broke the glass and pushed down on the cute button nose of a rainbow coloured rabbit.

All across the country, aurors sleep talking in their beds, getting drunk in bars, doing shady things an auror really shouldn't be doing felt their wrist-watches flash searing hot. Quickly rolling out of bed, or dunking heads in rainwater barrels in the vain hopes of sobering, or high tailing in alarm, aurors of all different ranks and sizes apparated to head quarters in the defence department of the Ministry of Magic.

For an instant, pandemonium ruled as with disorienting popping sounds, bodies appeared out of nowhere to crash into one another and noise levels climaxed to an all time high as people tried, collectively, to find out just what in all blazes was going on.

"ENOUGH!" An amplified voice full of authority demanded. "SHUT YOUR TRAPS! ALL OF YOU!" Suddenly the room was filled with clicking sounds as auror after auror snapped their jaws shut.

"Alright then, who in all nine hells pressed Thumper's nose?" Pushing his way to the centre of the room, the man spoke again. Sleep was quickly fading from his good eye, while his magical eye darted around like a ping-pong ball between professional players as if to make up for the lack of attendance of its neighbour. Face riddled with gruesome scars, the infamous Alastor Moody thunked his way through the crowd parting the people as Moses had once the Red Sea. A few trainees new to the scene and not as intimidated as they well should be by the seasoned fighter were slow to give way and were rewarded with a solid stump of a leg crushing painfully into their not so solid feet. By the time Moody had advanced to his intended destination (the centre of the room if you would recall), more than a few startled yelps had sounded.

Timothy Blake, junior officer though he may be, was well aware of old Moody's reputation. He cautiously inched forward, halting at a good six feet away from the old auror and clearing his throat nervously, spoke.

"Err…that is… ahh….me!" He stuttered and finally gave in to the whole nerve-wrecking situation and lost all control of vocal abilities so that the last word of the disorganised sentence came out as a harsh shrill peep.

Mentally wincing, Moody stared down at the twitching young man, looking for the world as if he wished to bore a hole right through the poor quivering mess of a boy. He was not at all please to have his beauty sleep disrupted – and by God did he need some.

"Surely you have a solid, appropriate, respectable, justifiable reason for activating Thumper?" Brows rose, stretching his already mutilated face to take on a whole new meaning of ugliness.

"The… the detectors! They went… umm… they…" Poor old Tim made it only half way through his sentence before making the grave error of looking up and meeting the old auror's eyes. The piercing gaze (in more ways than one if you really think about it) was just too much, although personally most thought it was the face that did the job, and Timothy Blake fainted on the spot. His eyes sliding back and body crumpling into a disgraceful heap on the floor. This was soooooo not his night.

Sighing at the pathetic-ness of youth these days, Moody nudged at the pathetic heap at his feet. 'How absolutely pathetic. Really.' He thought, before turning to the rest of the crowd and began barking orders.

"Shacklebolt, Parkers check the detectors. Holland, Sheers, Baker, check the warding system. Rowding, Peters, rounds in the east wing and Valentine, McLaughlin, rounds in the west. Bones, Murakami run through the files and the rest of you stay here, shut up and don't move."

It wasn't long before the source of the emergency was detected. Kingsley Shacklebolt came bursting back, his flushed face and irregular breathing indicating that he had in fact sprinted all the way back from the detector area at the opposite end of the floor.

"Auror Moody, I think you should come and see this."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore had been having a delightful dream about dancing earmuffs, HAD being the operative word in that sentence. At precisely 4:07am, the headmaster was rudely awoken in his bed at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Normally such a disturbance would not have bothered him, after all he was the most powerful wizard on par with 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named', (here the old man gave a silent snort – oh he really loved that one) and it was only natural that prissies such as the likes of the current Minister who shall at the moment remain nameless for Albus was raised a polite boy, would seek his advice for all things large ("Oh Albus! Do you think the Dementors would make good additions to the haunted house at the new theme park?") and small ("Oh Albus! Do you think this new purple cloak makes me look fat?").

However, the manner of awakening this time did alarm him. In fact it alarmed him so much that he did not even bother to mentally whine about being parted from his sweet little dancing earmuffs as he usually would have. Instead, the sky blue eyes hardened and pulling on a plain robe he set off at a brisk pace to his office.

"Dear me!" His mirror cried. "No swirls? No rainbows? No…. no… glitter?"

It questioned the Headmaster's retreating back, utterly horrified. Something must be very wrong indeed.

* * *

Upon reaching his destination, Albus found two equally tussled looking witch and wizard already parked in front of the gargoyle that so loyally guarded his office.

"Minerva." He acknowledged. "Severus."

"You felt it of course Albus." Professor McGonagall stated, pulling her night robes closer. Snape himself did not say anything, but merely glanced at the old man noting the lack of distasteful ornamentals in his strangely plain robes. He too was dressed only in his night robes, which were of course – black.

Dumbledore quickly ushered the two professors into his office, shooting Fawkes a quick greeting he settled himself into his nice plushy chair. For once he was glad he resorted to such indulgences, in times such as this, small favours were the only thing that kept him from stomping on pointy hats and declaring that he was now completely dark and intending on world domination with the help of house elves and sinfully delicious chocolate truffles.

For the moment, however, he leaned back into the soft cushions of his chair and nodded gravely to his companions. By now, both witch and wizard have taken their seats and worry lines etched their brows as they regarded the Headmaster, a man who was greatly respected by both parties, their eyes silently prodding him for answers that they so seek.

"Headmaster, that power surge…" Snape began to speak, smooth velvety voice underlined with confusion. "Such unbelievable power. I have never felt anything like it. Not even…not even from the Dark Lord himself. Nothing in this untamed, raw form."

"And it was obviously not in the vicinity of England." Professor McGonagall carried on. "My sensor abilities are not as strong, but it is undeniable that this magical outburst was from the general direction of Asia. China perhaps, or maybe coastal Japan. Even at such a distance, I felt it clearly. I shudder to think how much stronger that feeling would be if the source of the power was any closer. You don't think this has anything to do with…You-Know-Who do you?"

The old man ran a hand through his snow-white beard before shaking his head negative.

"No, I do not believe so. It was too different, there was no taint of corruption, no hate or wrongness that I have come to associate with Voldemort." At the name, the two adults in front of him repressed a shudder. "In fact it was not tainted with any feelings at all, not focussed in any way that I can deduct. Simply magic unleashed in is purest form, and for what purpose I cannot fathom. Whether this new player will be a threat or not I cannot tell you, but we do need to be on high alert from this point onwards of any irregularities, however insignificant."

At this point, Snape cleared his throat. "Headmaster, does the floating head of one Alastor Moody in your fireplace count as an irregularity?"

* * *

Settled back in bed once again, Albus Dumbledore found sleep to elude him. He was not a man easily troubled, but after the news his old friend Alastor Moody brought him and the feelings he himself had experienced he could not find it in himself to cease pondering.

"_Albus, every single damn magic detector at the Auror's ward is broken! Merlin's unameables! Every single bloody one! Even the ancient Paeritz scope that we adapted from the core found in the pyramids during the expedition of Alexis the Paranoid. And you bloody well know that that thing was even able to withstand all the power surges picked up from your own bloody battle with Grindelwald. Broken! Complete shattered from overload! What in bloody blazes could do this?"_

_Evidently this news did not sit well with either of the other two occupants of his office as Snape leapt to his feet and promptly began to pace and Minerva sat with both hands held up to her stunned face looking as if she was considering slapping herself awake. Dumbledore himself had sat and absorbed this extra information, churning it over in his already overactive mind._

Now his mind was still churning and he was becoming paranoid. 'Dear Lords! I'm becoming Alastor!' Dumbledore decided there and then that such a case was completely unacceptable and since he was still alive, Hogwarts still in one piece and there was currently no news of a mad raving powerful lunatic going around slaughtering people, he was going back to his earmuffs and the rest can be dealt with at a later date. With that, Dumbledore clicked off his night lamp and settled into an uneasy rest.

* * *

Several thousand miles away in the small Amazon village of Joketsuzoku, elder Kuh Long blinked awake as an unknown wave of power swept through her. Instants later she was out of bed as shockwaves of some sort of impact forced the ground to roll beneath her feet. More nimble than it would have thought to be possible, the shrivelled old bag grabbed her wooden staff and pongoed her way towards the outskirts of the village where the night sky burned with an emerald flame.

Kuh Long was vaguely aware of when her great-grand daughter Xian Pu joined her in her pursuit, but such small details were forgotten when she came upon the object of the disturbance. A giant crater measuring at least 10 feet in radius replaced a portion of the spring she had visited that very morning, and at the centre was a small limp form huddled in a foetal position. Green light was still bleeding from the stilled body of the small child when she drew closer, now only a mere two feet away she could see that it was a boy. A very badly beaten boy with numerous cuts and bruises, a boy so pale and still he could have been mistaken for dead.

Kuh Long scanned the child and did a quick check for the vitals. The boy lived, but only barely. She heard a sharp intake of breath as her great granddaughter finally caught sight of the still boy, rapid footsteps spoke of Xian Pu's approach and she gingerly knelt beside the pale figure and hesitantly reached out to touch a raven lock of hair.

"Oh you poor poor thing," She murmured, and looking up with pleading eyes she voiced. "Great grandmother, he will be ok right? We must help him."

But Kuh Long was not listening, instead her gaze froze, fixed on the lightening shaped scar revealed when Xian Pu had brushed aside the boy's hair. The most respected elder and matriarch of the Joketsuzoku village stood stock still for what seemed like aeons, eyes never leaving the thin scar that stood out like a sore thumb against the paper white pallor of the boy's skin.

"Oh Albus, what have you done now?"

* * *

**A/N**: Well hope you guys liked that! We've just moved houses and besides the computer and bed, my new room stands absolutely empty! I've been too dead set in typing this up to worry about anything else – now that's dedication! Please R&R for more chapters! 


	9. Chapter 7 Decisions

Chap. 7 – Decisions

The boy was floating.

At least, that's how it felt to him. Gentle green waves washed over him and he was filled with a kind of warmth, a kind of calmness he had never before experienced. His jumbled mind tried to make sense of the situation, but thoughts of 'How? And Where?' vanished as rapidly as they formed to be replaced with the same tranquillity that enveloped him.

He thought it was a mere trick of the mind when he first heard it. So faint and distant was the sound that it could have been mistaken for whispers riding the wind, but in a place of absolute stillness, there existed not even a slight breeze. Then as it grew louder, the child cocked his head, straining to hear the words that accompanied the soft sweet melody that was now very real and distinctly drawing closer.

_Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,  
Smiles await you when you rise.  
Sleep,  
pretty baby,  
Do not cry,  
And I will sing a lullaby. _

_Cares you know not,  
Therefore sleep,  
While over you a watch I'll keep.  
Sleep,  
pretty darling,  
Do not cry,  
And I will sing a lullaby._

Visions of soft auburn hair and lively green eyes filled him, unknown memories long forgotten surfaced and along with them came a sense of safety, of being cherished, of being loved and of being held in arms so strong and at the same time, so gentle.

He was not sure how long he stayed there, curled up in this place so far removed from the brutal reality he had escaped. The boy lost all sense of time; content to stay where he was - safe and protected and away from anything or anyone that could harm him. A small smile graced his face as he finally drifted off, all the pain forgotten for the moment in this place of hope and dreams.

'Mother.'

* * *

Xian Pu was fuming. Arms crossed tightly over her little chest and a scowl in place on her face, she stood leaning against the closed door of the building glaring at anyone unfortunate enough to pass by. The whole effect, however, was ruined as every few minutes the girl would bounce up and down like a three year old on sugar high hoping to catch a glimpse of the happenings through the too high windows of the old house.

'It just wasn't fair.' She silently sulked. She had helped great grandmother find the boy. She was the heir of the most powerful and respected matriarch of the village and yet here she was skulking around outside of Lan's medicine hall like some insignificant urchin trying to catch wind of any news concerning their late night discovery two days before.

Inside the building, the elders have gathered, called together by Kuh Long, the oldest and wisest of them all. The village healer herself, Lan, was also seated towards the back of the room closest to the door that led to the recovery bay. Dark shadows hung under weary eyes, hair in a messy bun at the back of her head and a look of exhaustion settled over her face, Lan stifled a yawn and snapped herself to attention as a little old lady balanced on her walking stick pogo-ed her way to the centre of the room. The sight was quite ridiculous to be truthful, but looks can be deceiving and Lan reminded herself that this same harmless looking elder had once single handedly wiped out two whole legions of invading Musk warriors to save the village from destruction.

Positioning herself at the centre of the room, Kuh Long cleared her throat and began to speak. Her voice was clear and authoritative as the respected elder looked at her audience seeming to address each of them personally.

"As you would all know, and would have all felt, there was an unknown power surge only two nights previously. Fearing it was a threat I quickly made my way towards the source of the disturbance only to find a small child, no more than Xian Pu's age. There is no doubt he was indeed the source of power I had felt as the impressive display of fireworks that accompanied this surge was only just dying down as I arrived. The child, a boy, was unconscious and upon examining his condition I could see why. A multitude of cuts and bruises marred his body and after the green light that surrounded him finally faded and along with it the reek of power, I could barely detect his life force. Said child is now residing in the recovery bay and his many injuries treated by our expert healer, whom I expect is doing a wonderful job as per usual."

With that Kuh Long nodded towards Lan and the healer felt a flush of pride heating her pale cheeks.

"For his inner potential to explode outwards as such was the case, the child must have been placed in a very dire situation. I am not one to judge easily, but upon closer examination our healer has informed me that the child is seriously underweight probably resulting from years of malnourishment and his body littered with old scars. I therefore have reason to believe that this boy did not grow up in a happy home and that whoever was responsible for the ill treatment of this child was also responsible for the situation that awakened the boy's sleeping powers. As you are all aware, an individual's potential slowly develops as he or she ages, gradually coming to life as they gain better control over their selves. To have one's full potential suddenly and violently come awake this way could hold severe consequences. The child may be physically or mentally damaged beyond repair, he could never awaken from this coma, or his inner power become so depleted as to never recover from this outburst so that he is forced to live life as only half a man."

At this soft sympathetic murmurs filled the room and Lan unconsciously clinched her fists cursing the inhuman beast that had mistreated the poor boy.

"However," Kuh Long shushed them with a glance. "There is also the very rare case that the boy's inner core, the source of his life and power, become expandable from this experience. Most of us have a fixed well of energy that we can access, if the child survives and by some miracle is left in tact as whole, it is likely that his well of power will be able to develop to immense proportions. But the chances of this circumstance is slim to none, in my long life, I have only ever heard of one occurrence and even that ended in tragedy as the poor man became so overwhelmed by the prospect of his power that he became totally consumed by it. However, it is pointless in worrying about any of this until the boy awakens and we are able to accurately determine his state of being. Now I must inform you of something more pressing which I found to be even more disturbing than what has already happened."

At this many elders sat up straighter in their seats. Eyes focussed intently on their leader who suddenly sighed and appeared more weary than they had ever seen. A common strain of thoughts fluttered wildly in their minds, what could be more alarming than the state of the boy? So young and so powerful…yet so broken?

The matriarch took a deep breath and began again.

"I travelled in abundance in my youth and made many acquaintances. On one of my trips to England I met Albus Dumbledore, a man who later became one of my oldest and dearest friends. He is a powerful wizard responsible for the defeat of the Dark Lord Grindelwald and from what I am aware of, is the current headmaster of a wizarding school known as Hogwarts.

Unlike our village where magical and non-magical folk live side by side in harmony, the structure of society in the outer world segregates the non-magical folk known as 'muggles' from the magical. In fact they are kept completely oblivious to the existence of real magic. I disagree strongly with this type of government and believe that this maybe the sole cause of the many conflicts that has occurred and is present today."

Pausing only slightly, she continued. "Several years earlier a new Dark Lord rose, he called himself Voldemort and proceeded to wreak havoc all across England intending on the 'purification' of blood as he called it and was moving forces across Europe before he was banished. Voldemort was immensely powerful, to the extend that his very name was feared to be uttered. I know a little of his history due to my correspondence with Albus and am aware that a sad life filled with discrimination and fear had shaped the man he was to become. Once again I stress the terrible consequence of the segregation of the common people, centuries of misunderstanding and mistrust has led to the terrible mindset the folks have of one another and has given rise to many more wars and tyrants. As Voldemort gained power I lost contact with Albus whom I believe the people looked to as an icon of hope. But in the end he was not the one responsible for Voldemort's downfall, from what I have gathered from travellers the person responsible for the feat was but only a small child. Nobody knew how, but little Harry Potter survived the deadly killing curse and Voldemort in turn was stripped of his physical form and has not been heard of since. I know little of the boy in question, only that through the encounter he was left an orphan and marked with the sign of destiny. "

Lan gave a start in her seat. 'The sign of destiny? But that would mean…' Her eyes widened and she turned her stunned form towards the recovery bay where at that very moment a small boy with a lightning shaped scar slept.

"I have no more news from the wizarding community of England since the news of Voldemort's downfall. I know not what happened to the boy but only that Albus Dumbledore had taken matters into his own hands. Needless to say I was completely stricken with surprise to find an abused, near dead Harry Potter laying practically on our doorsteps."

At this the room erupted. Some of the elders gathered sat stunned, gaping like fish out of water. Others leaped off their seats questions bursting rapidly forth one after the other. A babble of voices filled the room as one elder looked to the next in confusion.

"Silence." The word spoken was not loud but the effect was immediate as the hubble died down and under the watchful gaze of Kuh Long, the disturbed elders returned to their seats.

"From all my years of association with Dumbledore, he did not strike me as a cruel man. I do not believe he intentionally harmed the boy in any way, and if he did then I am filled with sorrow to have misjudged his character so. It is, however, still true that he has placed the boy in danger. Although Harry Potter is not directly associated with our village in any way, it is our duty to shelter and guide those chosen by the gods."

Here the most respected elder paused. A piercing gaze swept through the room as if daring anyone to object to her next statement.

"Hence I have decided that the ritual of adoption shall commence at the next moon festival as soon as the boy awakes."

Shocked silence blanketed the room. Moments later a lone figure erupted from her sit.

"That's blasphemous! He is an **_outsider_**. An outsider **_male_**. Surely you do not intend to break tradition for him!"

Kuh Long sighed, she had expected something of the sort.

"Elder Tien Sha, believe me if you will. But I have contemplated this matter seriously, I have meditated and sought advice from the spirits. This is not some spur of the moment decision I have made and I stand by what I said."

The elder known as Tien Sha flushed angrily. "Respected elder Kuh Long. Please reconsider what you have just suggested. Such an act is completely unheard of. Yes, he may be powerful but he is still an outsider. Your irrational proposal can only serve bring sorrow to our village."

Another elder stood. "I am doubtful myself, matriarch. I see the points that elder Tien Sha is trying to make. Perhaps it is better to send him back to your friend? As you have said, this Dumbledore may not be a bad man, surely he will take better care of the boy once he learns of the kind of treatment the child was put through?"

Lan felt anger surge within her. These argumentative old crones didn't know what they were talking about, if only they had seen the boy, seen the condition he was in, then they would never suggest to send him back. No child deserved what the boy had been through.

Kuh Long obviously held the same sentiments as she narrowed her eyes and rapped her staff sharply against the ground. Once, then again.

"Do I not hold any authority here any more? That you would rise out of place to argue so against me. The boy will not go back to England, not anytime in the near future. Albus has lost him once, I will not give him the chance to do so again."

Silence fell again as the two elders who had spoken lowered themselves back into their seats. Eyes cast downwards the elder named Tien Sha spoke.

"I apologise for my outburst Matriarch. It was indeed out of place. You alone were chosen to lead our people and I trust you will do what you feel is most suitable and of the best interest for the village." She spoke in stiff tones, body tense.

"I shall do just that." Kuh Long spoke softly, words laced with steel. Head high, her ancient eyes glittering with determination she announced.

"Harry Potter will stay."

* * *

**A/N**: Well… you know the drill! R&R if you want any more! 


	10. Chapter 8 Mysteries

**Disclaimer**: Bleh – been there, done that.

Chap. 8 – Mysteries

He opened his eyes to darkness. Attempting to sit up to scout this unfamiliar setting as he was taught, the boy found himself overwhelmed with pain before falling back to rest upon soft linen sheets. He felt around him, the smooth bedding, the fluffy pillow propped behind his head, the bandages on his body. Where ever he was, and who ever took him there obviously didn't mean him too much harm. He struggled to slow his beating heart and clear his muffled head, but somehow lethargy seemed to overtake him and soon, cradled in the arms of Morpheus, the boy fell back to sleep.

The second time he woke, it was to a steady babble of voices speaking in a tongue he was familiar with but could not understand. And still the blanket of darkness persevered, allowing him no glimpse of his surroundings. He stilled suddenly as he felt gentle hands probe his face. A soft voice exclaimed, footsteps, and then more exchanging of words before he felt cool liquid placed at his lips.

Suddenly he came to realise just how parched he was and greedily he gulped down the water while the same pair of gentle hands traced soothing circles along his back. When he finished, the boy uttered an exhausted 'thank you' before loosing consciousness once again.

* * *

Xian Pu was spending yet another afternoon at the recovery bay observing the sleeping boy when he woke. Blank green eyes blinked awake staring off into nothing, Xian held her breath and cautiously, as if approaching an injured animal, she reached out, gently running her fingers down a bandaged cheek. 

The boy stilled, body frozen and muscles tense looking for the world as if he was going to bolt. Xian Pu glanced desperately back at her great grandmother who was at the moment conversing with Lan about the boy's progress, willing them to turn their attention to her and her charge. It seemed to work as Lan glanced their way and with a soft gasp, hurried over, professional eyes checking the boy up and down taking in his condition.

"He's awake." The healer stated dryly. "About time too."

"Water would probably be a good bet right now." She mused to herself before turning abruptly to fetch a bowl.

Xian Pu blinked and shook her head. Lan was brilliant no doubt about it, but sometimes she can sure be strange. She quickly leapt to her feet and moved out of the way as the healer came racing back a full bowl of sloshing water sitting between her hands. As Lan placed the water next to the boy's mouth, Xian bit down on her lips, willing the boy to drink, willing him to get better.

The gods must have been looking down favourably on her that day as the boy latched on to the bowl with shaky hands and began downing the water like a man lost for too long in the desert. Xian Pu reached out and rubbed his back in a gentle and soothing way for fear he would choke in his rushed manner, she remember a time in the distant past when her mother had done the same, bringing a sense of comfort and warmth. Finishing all too quickly, his small figure unsteady the boy swayed and fell back to bed and closing his jade coloured eyes went back to dreamland. But before completely slipping out of awareness, a small whisper left his lips.

"Arigato."

* * *

Kuh Long watched the commotion and gracefully approached, hopping along on her splendid staff. She reached the bed just in time to catch the boy's sigh, frowning she furrowed her brow, a thoughtful look etched on her face.

"Tell me Lan," she queried. "If you were lost and hurt and quite possible delusional with fever, in attempting to thank your saviour what tongue would you resort to?"

Lan blinked at the suddenness of the question.

"My mother tongue? The language with which I am most familiar, that which comes most naturally to me so that I do not have to expend energy to think of the words."

"That is what I would have thought." The elder added after hearing the healer's reply. A pensive look upon her face she observed the pale boy upon the bed, moments later and without a word to either of the other two occupants of the room she turned and left the room. Xian Pu and Lan snuck a look at one another.

"What was that about?" The healer raised an eyebrow.

Xian Pu proceeded to chew on her lower lip, drawing her knees to her chest the girl cocked her head and frowned.

"I don't know…" She answered. "But great-grandmother looked troubled."

"Did you catch what he said?"

"I think it was aligrato, or was it arikahta?"

The healer looked jolted.

"Arigato! Japanese for thank you!" She exclaimed, eyes bright. Putting two and two to come up five she continued.

"This boy is the supposed 'Boy-who-lived' right? The boy called Harry Potter – a foreigner, a British. Now logically speaking he should have grown up speaking English, it should have been his mother tongue, a language he should have resorted to in situations such as this. Yet he thanked us in Japanese, does this not strike you as strange?"

Xian Pu bobbed her head up and down in agreement.

"That must be what great grand-mother picked up on as well."

"Yes well, our dear Matriarch is one of the brightest sparklers around so no surprise there really." Lan commented tapping the bouncing girl on the nose.

"So now comes the question why our dear boy here speaks Japanese. As an important figure in his homeland, assumably, he would have received a good education which may have included several languages. Perhaps Japanese was one such language that he had a particular affinity for. But then again judging by the state in which you found him…Why would anyone bother putting such effort into the child's education only to treat him so? Why teach him things that may one day be used against oneself? This isn't making any sense at all! Or maybe the boy was not raised in England? But why Japan? As far as I know there is no existing political alliance between the two countries. Oh a mystery, how exciting…" The healer babbled, more to herself than to an audience, with eyes glazed over in concentration she wondered out of the room leaving a confused looking heiress behind her.

Xian Pu tugged in frustration at a lock of violet hair. Adults were so…so frustrating! Especially when they were as strange as the local healer who always seemed to be a step ahead and constantly thinking and thinking and smiling that knowing smile like she knew something you didn't, which she probably did mind you. With a sigh, the girl settled herself into a more comfortable position before resuming her vigil. Brushing a lock of dark hair from the boy's forehead, she whispered fiercely.

"You're safe now. I'll look after you."

* * *

The most respected elder and matriarch of the village of Joketsuzoku paced the length of the practice dojo. Or perhaps hopped would have been a better word as she pogo-ed from one end of the long hall to another. Similar thoughts that had occurred to the healer ran wildly through her ancient head. Along with the mystery of the boy's supposed cultural background came a needling suspicion that all was not what it seemed. She almost had the urge to summon Heiye to contact Dumbledore, an urge she quickly dispelled with a violent shake of the head. The man could not be trusted, not for the moment at least, not until she got the whole story out of the boy. 

It has been almost six weeks since that fateful night when the night sky burned with green fire, the night she discovered one near dead Harry Potter on the out skirts of the village. The dedicated healer, Lan, had worked around the clock, doing all that she could for the boy. Hope had risen when the healer had announced that the boy was observed to undergo dreaming. This proved that he was not brain dead, his mind was still active and he had a fighting chance of waking up from this extended coma.

It was with great anticipation that they had waited around the recovery bay these few days, when the boy had suddenly developed a fever Lan had mused that it couldn't be long now that he was steamed awake. Xian Pu had become particularly attached to 'her find' as she had stated, Kuh Long could barely drag the girl away to eat as her heir refused to leave the boy's side, claiming permanent residence on an old wicker chair she had dragged next to the bed.

Kuh Long herself had been excited by the prospect of the boy's potential recovery, why imagine the power he would develop if he were to awake and become fully trained! It was a once in a lifetime opportunity to gain a pupil of such potential and Kuh Long's palms itched at the prospect.

Now, however, her palms were raw from running them irately along the length of her wooden staff as she pondered this new mystery the boy presented. After an afternoon's contemplation she finally ceased her activity to head out to her place of residence.

Yet another unsolved mystery to be added to the ever-growing list concerning the Potter boy, she will just have to exercise her patience for a while longer. After all, it would not be too far from now that the boy was in a more coherent and acknowledgeable state so questions can be asked and hopefully answered.

In the meantime, Kuh Long straightened, it was perhaps time to brush up on some Japanese.

* * *

**A/N**: Please make me happy by pressing that little button on the bottom left corner! (i.e. Review!) Just so I know I'm not writing this for nothing. Thank you! 


	11. Chapter 9 From beyond the grave

Chap. 9 – From beyond the grave

A hot and humid afternoon found one Genma Saotome, self-proclaimed honourable martial artist, trekking through yet another seemingly tropical jungle. Having recovered from a most dishonourable sneak attack from those blasted cats Genma had packed camp to set off in the utmost urgency in search of his successor. After he had eaten, washed, slept, and bandaged his wounds first of course.

Swearing out loud a few choice phrases, Genma swatted again at the bloody insects that plagued him. He had been tramping through this scenery for the past two weeks and by Kami was he getting sick of it. Green has become the new pink in his eyes, a most utterly despicable colour. He couldn't wait till he was out of this hellhole swamped by demon like life forms that made a living out of torturing him.

Slap! He squished an enormously disproportionate mosquito that had landed on his forearm and was attempting to feast on his life's blood. He soooo should have taken the peddler's deal on insect repellents despite the fact the bugger was so obviously trying to swindle him.

All this, he thought, was that boy's fault! If he didn't react so abnormally to the Neko ken training then none of this would be happening. He would not be hunting down the ungrateful brat through the wilderness of China (and lord knows that's one huge country) and getting eaten alive through the process. Genma vowed to himself that once he gets his hands on the green-eyed child, the boy would regret doing whatever it is he did that day.

Inwardly shuddering at the events on that fateful evening, Genma let out a deep sigh. He'd never before experience such a power, and the way it washed over him…he would never forget that feeling. A green fire that was alive, that burned and chilled him from the inside all at the same time. If that was somehow the boy's potential exposed due to the circumstance, then he simply must get the child back. Why, if that raw power was trained appropriately by the appropriate person – namely himself, then the boy could be the greatest ever. His very own prodigy…Genma's face took on a dreamy look as he envisioned a future where his successor, now proudly claimed as his son was famous and renowned. The boy would be undyingly grateful to him for all he has done, showering him with riches, why he could retire early buy a grand estate, travel first class and not to mention the food…

As his thoughts ran amok, Genma wiped his sleeve across his face, cleaning up the drool that had pooled at the corner of his mouth. Face set with new determination the balding martial artist trudged onwards.

* * *

Back at the village of Joketsuzoku, completely unawares of the delusional plans involving him that a certain fat martial artist was making, one green-eyed boy, now known as Harry Potter slept on. Despite his outwardly serene appearance, his rapidly darting eyeballs evident upon close examination betrayed the happenings inside his mind.

The boy found himself floating again. Inside a cocoon of warmth woven from fine thread of gold, he blinked awake. The voice was no longer singing but the calming presence remained. He carefully stretched, testing out his form and found himself to be in much better condition than previously. He was still wearing his training gi albeit it was in better from than it ever was, exempt from dirt, mud, scratches and patches that were normally littered across the white garment. Curious he peeked out from his position and found himself confronted by the ocean. The blue-green waves lapped gently upon the shore and in the distant horizon the sun was dawning, casting its orange glow upon the land to light up the sandy beach below him in glittering gold. The scene was breathtaking and Harry dared not blink, for fear that it will all disappear as soon as he closed his eyes. He loved the sea, had loved it the moment he laid eyes on it too far back to remember. He loved the way the ocean changed, the way it morphed as if it were a living being. When he and his sensei had the fortune to train on a beach once, the older man had ridiculed his love of nature. Stating that there were better things to do than admire scenery like a pansy, his sensei had dragged him back to training. Now, however, Harry took it all in and found himself overwhelmed with awe and a feeling he could not name.

It was not until later, so absorbed as he was in the setting, that the boy spotted the figure stretched languidly across the boulders some distance away down the beach. Curiosity taking over him again, he scrambled down his floating sanctuary on to the beach. A small smile gracing his face as he felt the damp sand sift between his toes the green-eyed boy darted forward soundlessly, towards the unknown figure.

It was a woman, a beautiful woman with auburn hair. A woman that was familiar to him somehow, although he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He stood in front of her relaxed form, not sure of what to do, not wanting to awaken this ethereal creature from her slumber. So the boy just stood and watched and waited.

He didn't know how long it was, time didn't seem to exist wherever he was. But Harry found himself staring into brilliant emerald eyes. Eyes that danced, eyes filled with unconditional love, eyes that were a mirror image to his. He felt the breath catch in his throat.

"Harry," She spoke, voice gentle and as lovely as he had envisioned. "My baby."

Reaching out the women embraced him, and the boy let her, despite years of training and mistrust of strangers that was ingrained into him. He needed this, needed it more than anything else he has ever needed, needed this strange and beautiful woman to hold him, to love him like no one has before. Eyes blurring, Harry hugged back, and felt the connection strengthen eliciting memories long forgotten.

Gasping, the boy uttered, hope and desperation apparent in his unsteady voice.

"Mother?"

* * *

Xian Pu was bored. Watching Harry sleep was all fine and dandy, but when that's the only thing you've been doing for the past five hours…well said task begins to hold as much fun and excitement as watching paint dry. And Xian Pu would know all about that, the girl eyed the newly painted walls of the recovery bay with distaste. After a rather nasty incident with cream puffs, Mu Tsu and a rubber ducky, Lan finally got the excuse to refurbish and decked the whole room in neon blue, lavender, orange and green. Lan had always had a weird streak, the healer thought white walls were too bland and dreary for good healing to take place in and decided to liven things up a bit with some colour. She stated in that calm no-nonsense voice that such an improvement would aid in the recovery of the patient as colours bring a sense of life and enjoyment. Personally Xian Pu thought the only aid the newly decorated room would bring to the healing process was to give the patient the aspiration to heal as fast as possible to escape the blinding room.

'Where are earth did she find those colours anyhow?' Sighing in bemusement Xian Pu allowed herself to settle back in her newly cushioned wicker chair and returned to Harry gazing.

* * *

The boy in question was currently staring in awe at his long dead mother who didn't appear so dead at that moment. He had heard the tale as told by his sensei many times, how his parents had died in a terrible, tragic accident and how by risking his life the balding martial artist had managed to save Harry but was too late for his poor parents. How Genma had kept him and raised him as his own child, training him as his heir, how the boy should show more respect and gratitude to his saviour. Lily gave a wane smile and tucked a lock of red-gold hair behind her ear.

"That's a bunch of bull-crap you realise." The boy startled.

"You… can read my mind?" His eyes widened.

Lily threw back her head releasing a peal of tinkering laughter.

"Oh my son, there is much you don't know. For instance, your true heritage as a wizard, how your father and I really perished and the weight that lies on your small shoulders."

"A what?"

"Shush love, we haven't much time. But I want you to know that your father and I love you, very very much. He wished to be here as well but the one you would know as Izanami drives a hard bargain." At this the woman shook her head, resigned.

"I am amazed I am here at all myself. But there is no time to dwell on that. Listen my Harry, my little boy. It is love that saved you and love that will see you into the man you are to become. Your road is not an easy one, and sometimes you may stray off the path set for you. But you must be strong, for I know you have the conviction and courage needed for the tasks ahead."

Upon hearing his given name, so long neglected, the boy blinked as if waking up for the first time. Fixing his mother's words in his mind, he promised to follow her wishes, swearing this in his honour.

"There are people who ask too much, people who do not hesitate to thrust such responsibility onto shoulders much too young. Do not hate nor resent them Harry, they are weak so you can be strong. Believe in yourself even if others do not, but most importantly you must learn to see through this." A gentle tap on his chest, where below lay his beating heart, a childish heart that loved and accepted.

With smiling eyes that twinkled with what looked suspiciously like tears, the woman embraced her child one last time. Kissing him gently upon the forehead and both cheeks she whispered.

"It's time my little one. Time for you to go back. As much as I would love to keep you here with me, I cannot deprive a broken world of its hero."

Pushing him towards the sea, she stepped back, figure becoming translucent as the setting behind her. Green eyes wild, the boy attempted to run back to his mother's warm embrace, not wishing to leave now that he has finally found her. Lily shook her magnificent head, tears flowing freely down her cheeks she waved her baby boy onwards.

"Into the shadows you will go my mageling, but remember, light will shine in the most unexpected of places. And despite the impossibilities you may face, the wild spirit in you will conquer all."

Harry felt the sea take him, as the beach and its lone occupant faded away. His mother's final words still ringing in his ears he felt blackness overcome him and he slipped away.

"May our love keep you safe."

* * *

Kuh Long nearly dropped her cup of tea as her great granddaughter came storming in as if a hoard of Musk warriors were on her tail. Cheeks flushed Xian Pu sprinted the rest of the way across the hall ignoring the curious and some disapproving glances shot her way by the occupants currently training in the dojo. Coming to a stop inches away from the Matriarch, the heiress of the village hastily bowed paying her respects before her mouth took her away and what sounded like an incoherent babble streamed forth.

The most respected elder blinked almost owlishly as she tried to sort out the onslaught of words. Catching a 'Harry' and 'awake' she quickly raised a hand to halt the overexcited girl.

"Slower Xian Pu."

"I apologise Elder." Xian caught her breath and began anew. "The boy, Harry Potter, woke up not more than ten minutes ago. Healer Lan is attending to him at this very moment, while I was given the task of informing you of this new development." She spoke formerly aware of the audience they held.

"The boy, Elder, is in apparent good health with one exception." Kuh Long let a slight frown develop at this.

"His mind…?" The Matriarch queried.

"No, Elder, we have reason to believe his mind is completely in tact from his responses." Came the response.

"Then?"

"Well let's just say that Lan's new colour scheme won't be bothering him too much. The boy cannot see, Elder. Harry Potter is blind."

* * *

**A/N**: Whee! Another chapter! Same old routine – review for more! Come on 10 reviews per chappie isn't that much to ask for surely? 


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